Demented Paranormal Fuckfest: THE SEQUEL
by Shmacky
Summary: Sequel to the eloquently named "Demented Paranormal Fuckfest". Never to be finished, due to the fact it sucks a big one.
1. Sparkles

**OKAY SO I WROTE A SEQUEL TO THIS BITCH. I may continue to do so as long as it doesn't get in the way of my actual srs bsns stuff. But still I'll probably slack off on that because these are fun as fuck to write.**

**WARNINGS: OK IF YOU HAVEN'T READ DEMENTED PARANORMAL FUCKFEST, READ IT. that is all the warning you're getting. **

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_Room 15, random motel outside of a small, rainy town in Washington_

"Okay, now, Dean," Sam said, "you're going to 'move your right leg exactly five inches to the left'…_no_, your other left…what the fuck, that's more like _ten_ inches, are you deaf?"

"Well," gasped Dean, from his awkward position in the bed, "why don't you do this then? Or get angel boy do to it. He's more bendy."

"At the moment, Dean, I do not wish to do…_that_. I'm more concerned with the fact my head is dangerously close to the ceiling fan." Castiel said, nervously looking over his shoulder at the ominous fan in question.

"You dicks!" Sam exploded, "you _know_ how long it took me to work up the courage to check this _Kama Sutra_ out of the library. The least you can do is perform 'Camel Regurgitating Pomegranate Seeds' with me."

"Sam, that position is for two people, one of which would be a woman," Castiel explained, because angels know that shit. Everyone in Heaven are huge perverts, especially God. Why else would practically everything in the Alien movies resemble penises and vaginas? Seriously, those things are like one big cinematic euphemism.

"Well, I thought I could just wedge myself in later or something! I mean, if you want to come over here and help me navigate this thing to find the three person positions, be my guest!" Sam said defensively, "And besides, one of you can be the girl. It shouldn't make too much difference, right?"

Nobody said anything.

"Right," Sam continued, "so, what's going on here? Is anybody getting penetrated yet?"

"No," Dean managed, "but standing on my head is really uncomfortable, Sammy. Can we do something else, _please_?"

"No," Sam said firmly, "anyways, we're doing _something_ wrong. Dean, your dick should be in Cas' ass right now, and his should be in…your vagina. Wait, _what_?" Sam asked incredulously, peering more closely at the page.

Dean shifted slightly, and Castiel had a look of horror on his face as he, in turn, was pushed closer to the ceiling fan. "Sam, I really think-"

"God, this thing is confusing. It's like those models we used to do as kids with all the little pieces and the instructions made no sense and the tube of glue was too tiny. D'you remember, Dean?" Sam looked up.

"No."

"Oh, of course you do. Or those puzzles we used to, where we weren't sure if we were just missing pieces or what, and there was so much sky – "

There was a knock at the motel room door.

"Fuck!" Dean and Castiel both collapsed on the bed. Sam got up to answer the door, while his two lovers both let out a sigh of relief as they were no longer in danger of snapping their necks or being decapitated by a household appliance.

Sam opened the door to reveal the motel manager. He was looking very giddy, and practically hopping from foot to foot in excitement. Sam was wary that he had heard their passionate romances and wanted to join in.

"What do you want?" The hunter asked suspiciously. The man craned his neck to see past Sam, and the youngest Winchester shifted so the old guy couldn't see Dean and Castiel's nudity.

"Oh, well, I didn't want to interrupt or anything…" he started off, leering slightly at Sam, who shuddered, "but I thought you might want to know, in town today, they found another dead body!" He finished triumphantly.

_Oh shit, that's right_, Sam thought, _we can to investigate mysterious deaths around here, didn't we?_

"So…uh…what state was it in?" Sam asked.

The man leaned in conspiringly. "Well…I've heard that it was drained completely of blood…" he whispered, "and, covered in some kind of…sparkly stuff." He looked positively gleeful at this news. Sam realized he must be one of those sad, small-town gossipy people, and that's the reason he had come to tell them, and not because he was like a plot device or anything. Sam also realized, with a certain degree of horror, that this man was now leaning against the doorframe like he was preparing for a long chat.

"Well, um, thanks for letting me know. Mr…." Sam trailed off expectantly.

"Oh! Mr. Meyer," the dude offered delightedly, "But you can call me Stephen. Or Steve. Whatever suits you!" Dear God, he actually _giggled._

"Um, thanks, er, _Steve_. But I'm sure you have other motel managerial duties I'm keeping you from…" Sam said, with a vague gesture.

"Oh, _no_, don't worry about that. You're my only guests right now," Steve said wistfully, glancing at the almost-empty parking lot. He leaned in even closer to Sam, who unconsciously leaned back. "You know," he whispered confidentially, "sometimes I go months without hearing another human voice."

"Um. Well. That must suck, but I've got to go now…uh, ThunderCats are on." And Sam slammed the door, cutting off Mr. Meyer mid-sentence.

"Guys," Sam groaned, "some idiot's died, we need to go into town to look for clues or whatever."

Dean pulled off of Castiel's cock. "Do we have to?" he moaned.

"If we go into town, Dean, I'm sure we could get ice cream or something," Cas soothed. And then grabbed Dean's hair and roughly shoved his dick back into his mouth.

"Well," Sam said, "I guess we don't really have to, but now that I've heard about the ice cream thing and cemented it in my head, we do. So let's go."

Everyone reluctantly cleaned up and got ready to go, completely oblivious to what was in store for them later.

_**To be continued…**_

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Don't worry they won't get all driven and case-oriented in this one

Everyone will just be as inept as always


	2. Ice Cream

**hey i wrote another chapter to this**

**the co-writer of previous chapters was Mr Johnny Walker but this chapter involved Mr Jack Daniels**

**ooh gentleman jack always there to ease the paiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin**

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**"Sam, you've got white on you."

"What?" Sam felt around his face. "Where?"

"Dribbling out of your mouth. Here," Castiel licked a napkin, and then dabbed at his face. Almost instantly, Sam was flying at half-mast.

"Thanks, Cas," he said, licking his vanilla ice cream cone and adjusting his crotch.

Once in town, our friends had immediately forgotten what they had come to do. They had gotten some ice cream, and were now playing with the Impala's babies and making plans for tomorrow. Playing with the baby Impalas entailed throwing sticks that they refused to fetch and trying to fend them off while they attempted to fornicate with your leg (cars matured faster than humans, and auto-puberty had hit hard), and making-plans-for-tomorrow was just Sam suggesting activities then being shot down.

Dean, however, was delighted. The ice-cream parlor had run out of his favorite flavor of ice cream, and now he had something to angst about. He had been cheerful for too long, dammit. But to his ire, neither Sam nor Cas were paying attention to him! He'd been trying to cry prettily for about fifteen minutes, not wanting to ruin his eye make-up, but really, if no one asked him what was wrong soon, he'd consider it.

One of the baby Impalas (Pinkie Pie, also known as Optimus Prime, depending on who you were) started to hump Dean's leg gleefully. "Get off, you little bastard," he muttered, fearing for his pants.

"Hey, guys! What about a picnic?" Sam turned to Dean joyfully.

"What?" Dean asked, still unsuccessfully trying to pry the lustful vehicle off his leg.

"You know, tomorrow. There's woods all around here, I'm sure we could find a nice spot. I could make some food tonight; I bought that new cookbook a few weeks ago. Dean, if I made that garlic stuffed chicken thing, would you eat it?" Sam inquired.

"Sam," Castiel said, "the corpse was found in the woods. If we do go there, we should be armed, and -"

"Jesus Christ, Cas, shut the cock up. You always have to ruin everything for us. Like that time you bought those rubber balloon thingies and made us all wear them during sex because you said it would be 'safer' or something."

"Condoms," Castiel supplied, "and I got them free from a clinic."

"Whatever," Sam rolled his eyes, "the thing is; you're no fun. You never want to do fun things." Castiel sighed. There really was no arguing with Sam, especially when he was like this. If there was, Dean and Cas wouldn't have had to be subjected to post-coital shadow puppets every night. Just then, he had another thought.

"But it's raining. And it's supposed to rain all week. You can't have a picnic in the rain," Cas stated, reasonably.

"God, Cas, don't be such a Debbie Downer. Quitters quit, and we're not quitters! We're having a picnic tomorrow, and that's that!" Sam turned on the Impala defiantly. "Let's go back to the motel. I've got sandwiches to make."

_**To be continued…**_

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OMGZ WUT WILL HAPPEN?

CRAZY SHENANIGANS AND HILARIOUS HIJINKS YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASS


	3. Hot Topic

**WHY ARE THESE CHAPTERS SO SHORT ehi34ehriu4dgiu3wvgvsyu43fs**

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Next day, at the mall

Smoothie bar. Newspaper stand. Some kind of aquarium store. That weird-ass place that sells nothing but hats yet somehow manages to stay in business. 'The Sandwich Tree' (what the fucking fuck?) that makes the use of bad clipart into an art. _This_, she thought with a sigh, _is my life_.

The middle-aged, overworked and underfucked woman wandered into her place of employment. She was late, but she was also the manager. She could be late. They owed it to her, the bastards.

"Tara! There you are! Come quick, we've got a problem!" Oh, fuck no. It was too early in the morning for this. Even if it was the afternoon. Sighing, Tara closed her eyes and consoled herself. The sex toys she had ordered online had arrived that morning. _Just think of tonight_, she thought, pushing back some of the long, tangled, drugstore-black hair which had fallen out of her clip. Sighing, she looked to her young employee.

"Okay, okay, keep your thong on. What's the problem, Macy?"

"It's Stacey." The young blonde girl looked hurt as she gazed up at her superior with big blue eyes and anxiously gnawed her full bottom lip. Tara hated her. Not just because she was young and pretty, but because Tara had worked at Hot Topic for a long time, and she spent every single day with Stacey-types. Young adolescents with hair that defied description and looked like they wanted to eat you. And not in the fun way. If it were, Tara would've taken advantage of their fresh, nubile bodies a long time ago.

"Okay, Stacey, whatever. What's wrong?"

Stacey still looked wounded, but continued. She shyly wound some of her hair around her finger and gave Tara another doe-eyed look. "Uh, there was, like a…break-in, or something. Stuff is _missing_." She finished in a hushed voice.

"Right. So, have we called the police? What's gone, anyways?" Even though she probably should have, Tara didn't care. It would just be some Invader Zim or Alice in Wonderland stuff, or whatever else prepubescent 'edgy' kids liked to masturbate to.

Stacey patted her elaborate coif and pointed to a display across the room. "They took it _all_!" She gasped, sounding scandalized.

Tara was still staring at the cleaned out shelf. She turned in disbelief to her underling. Finally, she spoke.

"They stole…body glitter."

"I know! Isn't it just _awful_? Stealing is so mean!" Stacey gazed up at Tara adorably, her big blue eyes filling with tears.

"What the fu- it's not awful. It's just stupid fucking body glitter. Nobody ever buys it anyways. It doesn't matter. Now, have you cleaned the bathrooms?" Stacey shook her head, looking afraid. "Well, go fucking do that. Now, before I beat your cute little perky ass." Stacey scuttled off like a frightened deer. Tara watched her go, and then turned back to the empty shelf. Who the fuck would steal body glitter?

"Well, here we are." Sam shouted above 'Fergalicious', which was blaring from the Impala's speakers.

Dean glanced out the window at the dark, wet forest surrounding them, slightly obscured by the pouring rain. "It seems very…creepy, Sam, are you sure we should be here?" he asked, hesitantly.

"What?" Sam yelled.

"I said, it seems very creepy, are you sure we should be here?" Dean said, louder.

Sam gasped. "Dean, I don't care _what_ you think, Mr. T is a brilliant artist and you shouldn't say that about him! Now, let's get out and go have our picnic." He reached for the door.

Cas turned off the radio, not wanting to compete with Ms. Fergie for vocal supremacy, even if she _was_ as delicious as everyone thought. "Sam, all of the mysterious deaths that have been occurring recently happened in these woods. Really, we should have some weapons, in case we get attacked." Dean agreed.

Sam smiled. "Oh, you guys, it's so cute when you act like fucking idiots. Of course I have a plan in case something gets the drop on us!"

"That's a relief. What is it?"

"Trip one of you, and then run for my life. C'mon, let's go!" Sam got out of the car and strode into the woods, putting his hood up to protect his neatly styled hair. After a moment, Dean shrugged and wandered into the woods. Castiel sighed, grabbed the picnic basket, and followed suit, because really, what else could he do?

_**To be continued…**_


	4. New Friend

**I guess this is officially a crossover now but I'm not putting it in the crossovers section. Fuck that i will not conform.**

**Also when i try and put the horizontal rulers in my computer eats them or something and then it looks dumb fuuuuuuuuuuuuck**

"Sam, I think we should turn back," Dean said, hesitantly. They had been walking for hours now, and he was cold and wet and pissed off. Also, Sam had promised pie. There was no pie.

Sam rounded on Dean with righteous fury. "What?" he demanded. Dean cowered like either a frightened puppy that had peed on the rug and was worried that its master was going to strike it, or a full-grown man who was just acting like a pathetic bitch. Let's go with the second one.

"It's wet and cold. I want to go back. We can't have a picnic in the fucking rain anyways." Dean decided to be diplomatic.

"Look, Dean, I do so much for you," Sam sighed. "Remember that time I bought a kiddie pool – brand new – and filled it with lime Jell-O just because you'd seen that stupid porno and wanted to try it? Remember? And then I washed the congealed Jell-O out of your-"

"Yes, yes, okay, I'll give you that. But still…" Dean trailed off awkwardly. Why did Sam have to be such a good debater? His arguments were so compelling.

"And after that one time when I fucked your face too roughly, what did I do the next day? I bought you ice cream for your throat. See? I'm nice to you."

With a world-weary sigh, Castiel decided now was the time to intervene. "Dean, Sam, both of you bring up very good points, but really…" He was cut off by a sudden loud rustle in the trees ahead of them. Everyone promptly lost control of their bodily functions.

"What the shit is that?" Dean said articulately.

"Rock paper scissors to see who goes to find out?" Sam asked in a strangled voice.

"You can't do that with three people," Castiel said, "it will basically cause the game to violate itself anally."

"Oh, fuck off! Who died and made you the Decisive Game Nazi?" Sam snapped. "Okay, so – rock, paper, scissors!"

Dean was rock, Sam was paper, Castiel was scissors. Sam and Dean looked embarrassed, whereas Castiel radiated smugness. _Angelic_ smugness.

"…Okay," Sam said awkwardly, "how about whoever pissed themselves the most goes and checks it out."

They all glanced at each other.

"That would be you, Sam," Castiel stated.

"Oh. Alright, then," Sam said, blushing furiously, "I'll go." He disappeared into the dense woods. Cas and Dean waited for a while. Then they heard a high-pitched scream.

"Oh my Dad, Dean! A little girl is in trouble!" Castiel shouted in panic, "we need to go help!"

"No, uh…" Dean mumbled, shuffling from foot to foot, "that's actually Sam. He just…sounds like that."

Castiel gave Dean a "WTF?" look, and Dean shrugged helplessly.

"Either way," Cas said, struggling to regain his aplomb, "we should go see what's happened to him! It sounds like he's in trouble!"

And they both ran off into the woods.

It was fairly easy to follow Sam, as he left a trail of urine and shame. Also, he had only made it a few feet away anyways. But, when Dean and Cas stumbled into the awkwardly placed clearing, a scene of horror assaulted their eyeballs. _Horrible_ horror. _Terrifying_ horror. _Sparkly_ horror.

"DEAN!" Sam sobbed.

"SAM!" Dean screamed.

"CASTIEL!" Castiel shouted. (He wanted to be included.)

"Hello," said Edward Cullen, "would you like to join me for a tea party?"

_**To be continued…**_


	5. No Pie

**i haven't updated in forever...BUT THAT IS CHANGING NOW.**

**also i saw a screening of The Room with Tommy Wiseau and Greg Seresto and they did a Q&A and holy christ it was the most fun i'd had in so long it was fucking hilarious**

**also chapter is crappy.  
**

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean yelled at the mysterious half-naked young man, whose chiseled torso was smeared in…body glitter.

"I'm Edward Cullen," the stranger said, unfazed. "I'm just out here to…pick wild strawberries. Yes. That's right. Strawberries."

"Guys, help me," Sam begged, sounding thoroughly uncomfortable, which may have stemmed from the fact Edward was gripping him tightly with his head tilted back at an awkward angle. Almost like a vampire would hold its victim, or something.

"Put him down, you fucker!" Dean screamed.

"Oops, sorry. There you go, buddy." Edward dropped Sam and patted his head apologetically. "I'm really sorry about that. It's just…all the homicides I totally did not commit occurred around these woods. When you see a stranger, one would react rather violently at first," Edward explained, sounding like a pompous bastard, "Anyways, I can tell you fine gentlemen are no threat. And, as you can see, it's raining. So, would you care to join my family for a tea party? We live quite close by." He beamed at them, in a rather creepy, predatory way.

"…Um, well, we'll have to…discuss it. We had plans…" Dean trailed off, looking sadly at the sodden picnic basket Castiel was clutching. "Cas?"

Dean and Cas furtively turned away from Edward to discuss things more 'privately'. Sam tried to go over to their little group, but Edward gripped his arm and yanked him back towards his naked upper body. The other two men didn't notice this.

"So, whaddaya say, Cas?"

"Dean," Castiel whispered, sounding enraged, "you can't honestly be considering going with this man!"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno, he seems pretty legit." They both turned to look at Edward in the meadow, who was restraining a very frightened Sam and sniffing his hair.

"Dean," Castiel gritted out, "there is obviously something not right about him. And what with all the murders…"

"Cas," Dean raised a hand, "when I'm faced with the choice of trekking around the wet woods for hours without food, or going home with a strange man with food, I'll go with the weird dude."

"But Dean…"

"Cas, we're going. End of." Dean turned back to the glittery fellow who was currently harassing his brother. "Okay, we'll go with you!"

Edward smiled. "Great."

"By the way, I'm Dean. You'll be glad to know, my gag reflex is practically non-existent. That's Cas. He's an angel, and he does a great sexual trick with lemons, but otherwise he's pretty boring so ignore him. The dude whose hair you're stroking is Sam. He won't swallow, though, so don't waste your time. I, on the other hand, do."

"Lovely to meet you. Now, let's go."

It took them awhile to get back to Edward's place. And when they did, our heroes were certainly in for a surprise. It wasn't what you expected from some random eccentric dude who lived in the middle of a forest. For one thing, it was big, made almost completely of glass, and looked like it was owned by someone whose prime masturbatory aid was an IKEA catalogue. There was a surprising but welcome lack of shrunken heads.

After a stunned silence, Sam joked, "Well, I guess you won't be throwing stones then, haha." Castiel cringed and Dean face-palmed, but Edward kept grinning maniacally. _How strange_, Castiel thought, _his resilience to bad puns is even better than my own. How can this be?_

"Come on, let's go in, before our hair gets all frizzy," Edward said, patting his own bouffant quaff, which Sam looked longingly at. _I wonder what kind of product he uses_, he wondered.

As everyone shuffled into the house, they were greeted by a booming voice from the top of the staircase.

"Ah, Edward! You're back! And you brought…" Meaningful pause. "_friends_."

"Yes, daddy." Edward said, clasping his hands in front of him as the boomy-voice guy descended the staircase, "I found them in the woods. They're staying for…_tonight_." He said, with lots of ominous emphasis on the last word. "This is Dean, Caz-teal, and Sam." Castiel stiffened. _Fucking prick_, he thought.

"Great. Good boy, Eddie." The man turned to our trio and extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Carlisle, Edward's father. I hope you'll enjoy your…" he trailed off, staring at Dean, who, upon hearing he was Edward's father, had pissed himself in an act of submission.

"Sorry," Dean said, blushing and looking away.

Sam was embarrassed. "It's fine, he just does that whenever he meets a father-figure. It stems from our childhood and our dad, really…" he explained hurriedly, and glanced at Dean, "make eye contact, for fuck's sake."

"Sorry," Dean said again, and looked up at Carlisle timidly.

"Cas," Sam said, turning to Castiel, who was trying very hard to ignore what was happening, "use your angel powers to get Dean some new pants. He's an angel," he explained offside to Carlisle.

"An angel? How interesting," Carlisle murmured, smirking a little.

Cas gritted his teeth. He didn't like these people. Sighing, he decided he might as well angel up some new pants for Dean. He tried, and nothing happened. He tried harder, and still nothing, except his face went a very unflattering shade of red. Edward and Carlisle watched with amused expressions.

"What's the hold up?" Dean asked, annoyed.

Sam let out a little laugh. "Sorry, he's a little shy around strangers," he apologized to Carlisle and Edward, and then hissed to Castiel, "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I do not know," Castiel panted, "but it's as though…there's something preventing me from…from.."

"Well!" Carlisle interrupting merrily, clapping his hands. "It just so happens, _I've_ got some clean pants that you can wear."

"Really?" Dean asked doubtfully, "would they fit me?"

"I think so," Edward said, "they're an old pair of mine. I used to be fat, you know, before I lost weight with Jenny Craig and got this smokin' hot bod. So yeah, they should fit you."

Dean looked confused. "Are you calling me fat?" he asked, eyes filling with tears, "'cause I'm not, you know! I'm not fat! I'm just big-boned, is all! Tell him, Sam! _I'm not fat!_"

Sam rubbed his back soothingly. "I know, I know, you're beautiful and I love you." Then he shot Edward a murderous look and mouthed "You asshole!" at him. Edward just smiled.

"…Yes, anyway," Carlisle said, struggling to drag the conversation back on topic, "there's dry pants and some food here for you. I imagine you're all very hungry, aren't you?"

Dean nodded hesitantly, still sniffling from his emotional outburst.

"Yes, well, just down the stairs here," Carlisle continued, opening what appeared to be a basement door, "there's pants and sandwiches and cake and…"

"Pie?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Yes, loads of pie," Carlisle said, "tons. Just go down these stairs…"

Sam shrugged. "Okay, let's go."

Castiel was frantic. He didn't trust these men, and knew there was something wrong. "No, Sam! Dean! Don't!"

"Come on, Cas," Dean said, grabbing his hand. They all walked over to the top step and peered down. It was pitch black. They couldn't even see past the first three stairs.

"Are you sure there's pie down there?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed.

In response, someone pushed him. Apparently, someone had pushed Dean and Cas too, as they all fell down the staircase. Sam whacked his head on what appeared to be a concrete floor. Blearily, he peered up at the only source of light, Edward silhouetted in the doorway.

"Idiots," he tsked, and slammed the door shut.

There was total darkness.

After a moment, Dean spoke.

"You know," he said, "I'm beginning to doubt there is any pie down here at all."

_**To be continued…**_


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